


Every shape of every word you say that breaks the silence of an ordinary day

by AmyJorumStitchery



Category: Tim Curry - Fandom
Genre: Caring, Emotional, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hugs, Older Man/Younger Woman, lean on me, taking care of Babyboy, vulnerable, working too much and need to take a break
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 20:44:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17567660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmyJorumStitchery/pseuds/AmyJorumStitchery





	Every shape of every word you say that breaks the silence of an ordinary day

Tim had been working non-stop for months, constantly on the go with various voice overs, long hours on set, interviews and mandatory dinner mingles and parties. It seemed like everyone wanted a piece of his time and attention, and it slowly wore him down.  
The only time you two got was at night when he came through the front door, literally pale and totally depleted of energy.

He had been complaining over his lack of sleep and that he was feeling sick and drained and that something felt off.  
Whenever you had a couple of hours together you tried to force him to lay down, to rest and to eat, because all this took away his appetite and you knew he could go the entire day without breaking for lunch or even a snack. He survived on coffee and cigarettes, and even  _he_ knew that was bad.

You sat by him, tried to lull him and comfort him, but you could tell he wasn't really present, always on pins and needles, like he couldn't stop thinking about the next thing or how he would arrange his long days.  
You noticed him slowly deteriorating and tried to talk to him, urging him not to take on too much or he would break soon.

And now as you had about 30 minutes before a taxi would come to pick him up, you had forced him to sit down on the couch with you, and he seemed particularly fragile, near tears almost.  
You reached out to touch him and he turned his head away in the same moment, believing that it would somehow make his sorrow less obvious, and rubbed his fingertips over his forehead.

"I'm worried about you, Tim."

He glanced at you, tried not to show too much. You put your hand on his taut shoulder and he hung his head.

"I've been feeling so down lately and all I wanna do all the time is to sleep."   
He stood up, threw his arms out in frustration and then let them fall along his sides as the words poured from him.  
  
"But I can't sleep and it's driving me insane and I feel sick all the time and sometimes I wanna fall to my knees out of exhaustion when I'm being pulled in a 100 different directions at once but what's making me  _not_ fall is the thought of you and knowing that I get to see you at the end of each day..."

You sat quiet, observing him with worried eyes.

"You're the only one keeping me sane you know I actually just wanna hide sometimes when I feel like I can't be what everybody expects me to be and I think back to my life before I met you and I can't believe how I was able to survive all the emptiness and insincerity and everything..." his voice trailed off.

You moved to stand beside him. "Oh, baby."  
He sighed and relax his shoulders a little.

"Everything was just an imitaion before I met you," his words a little less agitated, "but sometimes I feel myself slip back into old routines and I don't wanna live like that anymore, I don't want that phoney, pretense of my old life, because I hated it and I hated myself for going along with it and I thank my lucky stars that I have you, because I don't even dare imagine my life without you."

He exhaled deeply and realised that he had said all those things without breathing that much. He sniffed quickly and angled his body away from you, and you knew instantly that it was his defense mechanism, a way of hiding his mental state from you.

"Tim..?"

He clenched his jaws together, trying with all his strength to suppress a moan as his throat closed up.

"Baby..?"

He laughed a little, a strained laugh that was far from genuine and began to move away from you. Your hand reached out and grabbed his shirt before he could get away and you wrapped your arms tightly around his middle, pressing the side of your face against his chest. Tim gripped on tight right away and squeezed you to him.

Not saying anything, you just held him and let him collapse into your arms in a state of exhausted vulnerability that he only felt comfortable showing you.


End file.
